
(1;iss /^S?>S~0^ 

Book ■ (V?.^ H Z 
Coimolil \" if^ 



6 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



Tr"*") 



or 



by 
STANLY COGHILL 



^ 



SAN FRANCISCO 

a. iW. 3aol)ert£(on 

M CM VI 



LiBRAKYotCONQlRESS 
Two CtpJcs Rwflvod 

HOV 24 1906 

CLASS A XX<., N«. 

oori K ■ 






Copyright applied for 



Printed by 
San Francisco 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 
PREFACE . 



POEMS OF HATHOR 

A Memory 5 

Quatrain 6 

Hathor 7 

Love 9 

Hathor 10 

A Fragment 12 

Love 13 

Amor Resurrexit 14 

A Song from Nilus Banks 15 

Quatrain 17 

Sunset 18 

At Parting 19 

Absence 21 

To Him ...... .22 

Ghosts . 23 

As the Dead Love 24 

Gods Who Fashioned Me ... 25 

Morning in Alaska 27 

The Song of the Purple Sea .28 

To a Skull 30 

Thoughts of a Skull .... 31 

The Realm of Memory .... 34 

Song 35 



SIMON MAGUS 39 

OTHER POEMS 

To Edwin Markham .... 47 

To C. L. G 48 

To S. L. H 49 

To Miss Pauline Fore .... 50 

Alma Mater 51 

To the Graduates of the Class of 1900 52 

"Great is Diana of the Ephesians" 54 

The Priest of Saturn 55 

The Mystic 57 
The Birth of Christ . .61 

Recompense ...... 62 

Murzapur ^. . .65 

Mazatlan 67 

The Farewell of the Old Year . 68 




O make this book of Hathor a 
human life was lavished. For 
these pages contain the chief ac- 
complishment and expression of 
the few mortal years lent a rarely 
poetic spirit. To those whose 
burden is now one of memory of 
a perfect friendship, these poems 
are become the overtone of a strangely beautiful 
soul that was always seeking for a half-remem- 
bered and perhaps, in this world at least, un- 
attainable glory. Ancient Egypt, with her eternal 
magic of years and unspeakable glory of the 
Hathor, was the inspiration and land of heart's 
desire, as the name of her great love-goddess was 
often the title, to these poems. Therefore the 
book is called Hathor. The story of a life is told 
in the poems of Hathor. Added to these are cer- 
tain other poems which were less intimately 
related to the beauty of the Hathor. No man 
need be told who Hathor is. 

Acknowledgment is made to the Overland 
Monthly, the Oakland Enquirer and the Univer- 
sity of California Magazine for their kind per- 
mission to reprint several of the poems. 

February, 1906. 



B. K. 



POEMS OF HATHOR 



The temple of the ancient faith I sought 
That splendored all the morning of my soul. 
I saw an owl light on a fallen god; ^ 

I heard the wolf howl from the distant wood. 



A MEMORY 




HOUGH Lethe holds its dead 

forevermore 
And iron bands are weaker than 

the grave, 
Yet from the cold and silent 

brooding wave 
That laps the tearful and the 
moanless shore, 
I hear the echo of an ancient song 
And catch a fleeting vision of her eyes. 
Perchance it was a star within the skies, 
Perchance that melody of Love and Wrong 
Was but the night-wind crying from the sea. 
Yet in my heart reverberating still 
It wakes the sleeping hounds of Memory: 
Through forest wild and over dune and hill 
The huntsman seeks for what can never be. 



[Page 5 



QUATRAIN 

A burst of song melodious and wild; 

A rush of angels through the waiting air; 

A flash of light breaking the growing dark; 

And then a death like calm, and then Thy face. 



[Page 6 



HATHOR 




ROM what far gulf of Time hath 
she arisen 

To haunt me with her spirit 
beauty now? 

How hath she crossed the fath- 
omless abysm, 

The olden glory on her face and 
brow? 



Does she yet know how I did once adore her 
In that far land where the old river flows? . 
Remembers she how there I knelt before her 
And crowned her with the lotus and the rose? 

The rose the symbol of her deathless beauty, 
The lotus of her fateful spells the sign. 
Of charms that lured us from the paths of duty, 
Of love that poured forth blood as free as wine? 

Remembers she the temple by the river. 

The line of white-robed priests that by her passed, 

The deathless adoration we did give her, 

The longing looks of love toward her cast? 



[Page 7 



And sees she one upon the pylon kneeling, 
Watching the white moon sweep across the sky? 
Hears she the wild and agonized appealing, 
The prayers to look upon her face and die? 

Hears she the murmur of the ancient river, 
A flowing, crooning thro' the Nilus reeds, 
And wonders she if he can yet forgive her 
Who slew his people and his ancient creeds? 

Regrets she e'er the olden love still flies us. 
And new Gods rule us in the old Gods' stead? 
Hates she the grim Time Spirit who defies us, 
And sweeps away the memory of the dead? 



[Page 8 



LOVE 




MEASURED Love and Hate as 

equal powers 
But now I know that Love is all 

supreme. 
It is the one fulfilment of the 

dream 
In silence dreamed throughout 
the aeon hours 
Before with light He touched the formless void, 
And willed the stars and worlds and whirl-wind 

rush 
Of suns and planets, and the thundering 
Of ocean waves, and the soul stilling hush 
And quiet on the mountain tops and plain; 
And music-laden Day by Night destroyed. 
As Joy by Sorrow, and the pulsing ring 
Of morning song that welcomes Day again. 



[Page 9 



HATHOR^ 



O THE Lady Hathor greeting, 
Greeting, Lady, Time is fleeting. 
Time is fleeting from the endless 
To the endless, swiftly fleeting. 

Time is fleeting. Love immortal. 

Love weaves garlands on the 
portal, 
On the portal of Life's dwelling. 
On the cypress shaded portal. 




And the garlands, cypress stranded — 
Have the kindly Fates commanded 
That the cypress in the garlands 
Lend them beauty, cypress stranded? 



Argive Helen is departed. 
And the heroes, faintly hearted. 
Stumble, falter thro' the darkness. 
Stumble, falter, faintly hearted. 

^Written in collaboration with D. Alexander Gor- 
denker. 



[Page 10 



And tho' doubting, fearing, yearning. 
Peace deserted, passion burning, 
From the portal to the portal 
Haste they on, the Passion-burning. 

And they seek the sacred altar. 
Seek and stumble, fall and falter. 
Call on Hathor, Aphrodite. 
Cold the ashes on her altar! 

Dead is Hathor, Aphrodite. 
And the heroes, battle mighty. 
Seek her ever in the Silence, 
Seek the Hathor, Aphrodite! 

'Neath the -waning moon, cloud trailing. 
Hark! The night wind's plaintive wailing! 
Bears it echoes from the distance? 
Mourn the ghosts the* Hathor, wailing? 

Ah, do Love and Time contending 
Mock us in the Never Ending? 
In the dimness of the Silence 
Mock us in the Never Ending? 



[Page 11 




A FRAGMENT 

HERE came a Vision of Eternity. 
A wind blew from the north, and 

all was chill 
With fear of silence and the still 

of things: 
And Time moved slow as over 

Arctic snows, 
Then ceased the travail of his 
endless age 
And lay entombed in rich sarcophagus 
Of Genii-chiseled ice and snowy pall. 
And there, alone beside the silent tomb 
Of aeon-burdened Time, beyond all space, 
My spirit waited. 

Then a mystic light 
From out the empty voids of nothingness 
Cast a cold splendor like the dead moon world. 

There I saw thee stand. 

Thou goddess dream, triumphant o'er thy dead, 
The old smile dreaming on thy silent lips, 
Thy voiceless silence sweeter than all sound 
Of speech or rhythm of revolving worlds. 
Thy calm eyes fixed beyond the guess of God 
On thine own secret. 



[Page 12 



LOVE 




HEY called him God, but well I 
knew him Demon. 
Alone and in the silent hours of 

night 
Waged I, a mortal, war against 

his might 
To free my soul that she be not 
his leman. 
And at the dawn, black winged against the sky, 
I saw him fade, if fiend yet hierarchy 
A cloud, a mist, slow in the western dark. 
And then I sank to wake and know thee nigh. 



[Page 13 



AMOR RESURREXIT 



THOUGHT Him dead, but o'er 

the Sea of Sleep 
There came the rushing of a 

mighty wind, 
And in my heart the tomb be- 
trayed its trust. 
Is there no rest or safety I can 
find? . 

He buried lay — the grave was dark and deep. 
I raised a temple o'er His mouldering dust 
And chanted requiems to His ancient runes; 
But Asur opened wide the Gates of Hell, 
And as I hummed the half forgotten tunes 
His glory burst upon me and I fell. 




[Page 14 



A SONG FROM NILUS BANKS 




HISPERS the Horus to the 

Hathor sighing, 
The tale that brings the blushes 

to the dawn, 
That mystery of love that time 

defying 
Crimsons the heavens at each 

successive morn. 



He rises — let the heart be bowed before Him! 
He rises, Horus of the Eastern sky. 
Now let the Gods and sons of men adore him, 
Low bow ye as his sacred bark goes by! 

Here from the temples by His ancient river 
Rises the swelling sound of morning song. 
The adoration of the great Light Giver, 
The Lord of Life, the Conqueror of Wrong. 

But in Amenti where as the Osiris 
He reigns, ah, there are hymns we cannot hear! 
In dreams alone the passion song of Isis 
Breaks with the sistrum music on the ear. 



[Page 15 



And there it is the ghosts o£ the departed 
Worship the Hathor to the runes of old. 
There they have found, the heroes mighty hearted, 
The ancient secret that the aeons hold. 

Ah, could I learn that old mysterious story 
And teach it to her in a modern song, 
Would she not then unveil to me her glory ' 
And love's great rhythm lose the notes of wrong? 



[Page 16 



QUATRAIN 

My heaven thou hast been and thou my hell, 
An angel once and then a fiend — ah well! 
But now the highest honor in the end 
I pray thee take, the sacred name of friend. 



[Page 17 



SUNSET 

HE mystic yellow tinting in the 

sky, 
That pond of fiery, glowing, neb- 
ulous, 
Love-weary sunlight dying in the 

west; 
Ah, Love, if thou must perish it 
were best. 
Forgetting all my sorrow's over plus, 
I say a last grief-sanctified "Goodbye." 
Then sink with glories that thy reign yet mark. 
Sink beauty-faint into the swelling dark, 
Thy Lethe and thy rest. 




[Page 18 



AT PARTING 




CYPRESS-SHADED memory of 

the past, 
Yew-shrouded and suffused with 

mist of tears, 
Is Hfe to me, and all the coming 

years 
Turn backward, groping for the 

overcast 
Dead Faith in thee; and tho* the Reason spurn. 
Yet still will Love triumphant claim his due. 
And all the worlds seem but a throne for you. 
The earth is but an altar-stone where burn 
The fires I lit to lost and perished creeds 
Of thee; thro' night's dim waste of Joy in Pain 
You come to me a crowned Queen again. 
And then the Sun, malignant, eastward speeds 
And daylight with its mocking memory 
The arid stretch of Time makes desolate. 
Too brief is life that I should consecrate 
New Goddesses and Faiths in place of thee: 
And even Eternity that Time survives 
Is all too weak that it should conquer this, 
The memory of that despairing kiss 
Pressed on thy lips at parting of our lives. 



[Page 19 



So must I live, sadder than throneless king, 
A priest of perished creeds and fallen shrines. 
Muttering prayers disjointed, — broken lines 
Of the full song that I must never sing. 



I Page 20 



ABSENCE 



HERE is no light since thou art 
gone, 
But all is chill and drear; 
There is no breaking of the 
morn, 
No sunshine on the mere. 



The silent elms a vigil keep. 

The waters mourn above 
The place where some fond memories sleep 

Of unforgotten love. 




[Page 21 



TO HIM 





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HOU hast won to thee the glory 
of the ages, 
Odysseus come again! 
Thou hast blotted out the fairest 
of Life's pages 
And left me nought but pain: 
I shall see thee lead her to the 
altar ; 
My courage shall not fail, 
Bearing proud and step that will not falter, 

And face that will not pale. 
For I look beyond the ending of this battle; 

Mine is the coming war; 
Thy knowledge is the Grecian's childish prattle, 

But mine a deeper lore. 
War between us twain can ne'er be equal, 

The dead Gods fight for me. 
Thine is the present drama, mine the sequel. 
My time. Eternity. 



Page 22 



GHOSTS 



OT clad in white, nor bound with 
clanking chain 
At midnight in some haunted 

room they glide; 
For it were easy then to mount 

and ride 
Far from the cursed spot, and 
leave them reign 
With bat and owl, to point at ghastly stain 
Of murder done, or stalk in gloomy pride 
Thro' castles by some lonely river side — 
'Twere easy then to leave them to their pain. 




But by the light of day and dark of night 
They haunt the prison chambers of the mind. 
The clanking chains of good immured from sight, 
A Pride of Old Days fallen to the ground. 
God! Is there no oblivion I can find — 
No place of rest the weary world around? 



[Page 23 




AS THE DEAD LOVE 

CANNOT drive thee from my 

memory, 
I close my «yes and all the gulfs 

of Time 
Are populous with ghosts that 

speak of thee; 
And mighty spirits of the ancient 
dead, 
Whom once I knew and fought beside and loved, 
Bid me remember that I live again 
In expiation of the deathless wrong 
I wrought them for the beauty of thy face. 
I see thee clad in purple, but the red 
That mingles with the purple's midnight blue 
Is blood of those I loved in other days. 
I love thee as the dead alone can love. 
They hate thee as the dead alone can hate. 



[Page 24 




GODS WHO FASHIONED ME 

UT of the depths I cry, 
Gods who fashioned me, 
Out of the earth and sky 
And rush and roar of the sea; 
Fashioned me fierce and strong 
In the bitter mold of hate, 
And hurled me through years of 
deathless wrong. 
To my endless war with fate. 

Gods who fashioned me 
Where the waters flow and croon, 
What bitter jest filled the hearts of ye 
As ye laughed 'neath the scornful moon? 
Ye whispered each to each, 
'Neath the moonlight bright and cold ' 
When ye molded the clay and taught it speech. 
And a secret grim and old. 



[Page 25 



Say, was there never nigh 
A higher God than ye? 

Why did you work 'neath the midnight sky 
On the night ye fashioned me? 
Why when a Shape did pass 
Between ye and the glittering moon 
Did ye hide in the jungle's tangled grass, 
Where the waters flow and croon? 

And ye sent me forth to war, 
Filled with the lust of hate 
Of the lesser Gods who dread the Law 
And who wage the war with Fate. 



[Page 26 



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MORNING IN ALASKA 

HERE is a day of Silence— watch 

the dawn 
- Break at midnight upon the 
snow-clad hill, 
And all is light as day, and all as 

still 
As some forgotten world that has 
outworn 

Its life, and waits in silence for the morn 
Of Resurrection to arise and fill 
Its silent vales with life again, until 
New lives arise to mock the days agone. 

Such is Alaska's midnight. Over all 
The strange sun broods in mystic majesty. 
Its cold light gleams upon the sullen sea. 
Its cold beams with no touch of color fall 
Upon the snow that like the funeral pall 
Of a dead Innocence lies silently. 



[Page 27 



THE SONG OF THE PURPLE SEA 

(To the imaginative mind the color purple presents 
itself as a whelming sea, wherein are mingled red, 
the blood and passion of men, and blue, their higher 
hopes and aspirations. This poem is dedicated to 
Benjamin Kurtz, Esq., of the University of Califor- 
nia, who once read me a poem of his, never published 
and nowy-I believe, unfortunately lost, called "The 
Song of the Purple Sea," the name of which sug- 
gested to me the follov\ang "color poem.") 



AM a child of the Purple Sea, 
The blood of Man runs through 

my veins, 
Sensuous, pulsingly. 

From afar, 

From the wavering sea of blue, 

From a distant star, 
Comes the light that changes its hue 
To the purple of royalty. 




The blood of many kings 
Fierce from the carnage of the battle red, 
Lust of gore and lust of death. 
Strong to the song of the dying breath, 



[Page 28 



Leaps to the skies o'erspread, 

Leaps to the blue above, 

And there where the sound of battle rings, 

The blue and the red unite 

In the mystery of love. 

This is the mystery / 

Of the saga that you wrote ; ^. 

This is the song of the Purple Sea, 

Strong from the dying throat, 

Red with the blood of men, 

Soft from a lover's lips 

Breathing a whispered prayer 

In a temple where the incense clouds arise. 

The blue of the incense dark with the temple 

gloom. 
Under the midnight skies 

The heart of the soldier priest is breaking there 
For the love that he laid in the tomb. 

This is the saga of the Purple Sea, 

This is the why of its moaning through the night. 

Through the cypress boughs o'erhanging, there 

Falleth the pale moonlight 

On a shaft of marble fair. 



[Page 29 



TO A SKULL 



k 



HOU grinning emblem of our 

Destiny! 
And we have fought and worked 

and schemed and sinned, 
Piled on our treasures all the 

wealth of Ind, 
Cynic for what? That we may 
even like thee 
Symbols become of man's impotency? 
Forsooth be neatly packed in glass, and grinned 
And stared at, by a crowd whose dust the wind 
Will spread o'er plains where cities used to be. 




And yet grin on! To us there yet remain 
The Days that Are. Perchance that fixed smile 
Is but the memory of some ancient pain. 
Drowned in the rich red wines of sunny Spain, 
Midst laugh and jest, by comrades who the while 
Sought each to kill some secret grief — in vain. 



[Page 30 



THOUGHTS OF A SKULL FOUND 
NEAR THE PYRAMID OF CHEOPS 




HAVE witnessed the fall of a 

people; I have witnessed the 

fall of creeds. 
New faiths in rich profusion rise 

like the tangled river reeds. 
I shall see the fall of the Present, 

as I saw the fall of the Past, 
And the Gods ye boast are 

eternal — those Gods I shall 

outlast. 



A wiser race than ye I loved, and I sav^ that 
people die. 

A war cloud came the Persian and a fading mist 
passed by. 

And the Greek came after the Persian and the 
Greek is but a name, 

And the Roman trod his destined path from vic- 
tory to shame. 



[Page 31 



In the whirling rush o£ the Ages one faith alone 

remains, 
The faith of the God of Mammon, the faith of the 

God of Gains. 
The faith of the Galilean is but a mask to ye; 
Ye can blind the eyes of a people, but the heart of 

man I see. 

I waited in the Silence for the coming Gods to 

save, 
And they come and pass to the Distant; for a 

time the prophets rave. 
And the wise men smile upon them and borrow 

enough from their creeds 
To blind the eyes of a people and to meet their 

purses' needs. 

So I wait no more for the Gods to come, for the 

Gods have come and gone; 
And I wait no more for the rising sun nor the 

breaking of a morn. 
But I watch through the Night of the Ages old 

Evils die and decay, 
That Evils new may rule instead as the Good and 

God of a Day. 



[Page 32 



And this is the endless Cycle, and this is the story 

of Man, 
Now it is and ever shall be as it was since Time 

began; 
One God alone is eternal; one God alone remains, 
And He is the God of Mammon, and he is the God 

of Gains. 



[Page 33 



THE REALM OF MEMORY 



OW strange this realm of 

Memory! I wander 
Down the gray vistas of the 

vanished years, 
Alone and poor. No longer mine 

to squander 
Rich thoughts with careless ease. 
A toll of tears 
The bankrupt spirit now must needs deny. 
A vain regret, an aching heart, a sigh, 
Poor tribute, with a grudging hand it grants 
Pale Memory's wan and shivering mendicants. 




[Page 34 



SONG 




ULLABY, the crickets cry, 
'Neath the eaves the south winds 

sigh. 
God, a groan? Nay, 'twas the 

trees 
Softly swaying in the breeze. 

Lullaby, dear, lullaby, 

Love is dead, yet do not cry. 



Lullaby, ah God, a moan? 

Nay, my heart, you break alone. 

Strange it is when love is gone 

Soulless lives the body on. 
Lullaby, dear, lullaby, 
Love is dead, yet do not cry. 



[Page 35 



SIMON MAGUS 



SIMON MAGUS 




BOUT your head I weave a 

spell — 
Now, maiden, watch, beware! 
For I have learned the arts of 

Hell, 
Have wandered where the lost 

ones dwell * 

And breathed another air. 



Your face is fair, your heart is true. 

What have I, maid, to do with you? 

My form is comely maidens say; 

Know they the worms crawled thro' this clay 

Whilst I and Jambres wandered far, 

From star of ice to fiery star? 

Was it a month or but a day 
Or centuries this body lay 
Cold in the spell-wrought tomb, 
Which men who know our mystic art 
Reared in that Indian forest's heart 
By muttered words of gloom? 



[Page 39 



Your time and mine are not the same, 

Your years are but my day. 

But in your years 'twas long I dwelt 

Where man to God has never knelt, 

Where woman's voice was never heard. 

There in the Lands of Ice and Flame 

My spirit jnade its way, 

And never heard a singing bird, 

Nor pine trees rocking in the gales. 

The only sound that reached those vales 

Was when some avalanche of snow 

Broke from its place with thundering roar 

And smote upon the shuddering shore 

Where Ahrimanes dwelt. 

And then the muffled shriek of woe 

Ascending from the settling snow 

Showed well that he was tortured sore 

And that the blow was felt. 



[Page 40 



But to those Lands of Ice and Fire 

There followed me a fierce desire 

To see your face again, 

To gaze upon you hour by hour, 

To watch you sink beneath the power 

Of muttered spell and charm, 

To feed myself upon your youth, 

To feel the speech of men, 

Dance like the Ghosts of Vanished Truth 

Upon my lips, while e'er my tongue 

Whispered the words that Eblis sung 

Ten aeons past when Earth was young 

And free from dread of harm. 

And, maiden, so beware! 

It is not well that mortal maid 

Should play this game with him who played 

The Princes of the Air. 

But is it not too late, O maiden? 

And is not now your spirit laden 

With chains that bind you to my throne? 

The charm is said, the spells are spoken — 

Move and struggle, weep and moan, 

You will find the chains unbroken. 



[Page 41 



I have wandered far. 

Where the fire dwells, burning thirst 

Rent my spirit; tortured, anguished, 

There a thousand years I languished 

In the blood red star. 

In the realm accurst. 

And a sweet girl's face enchanted 
Followed me through regions haunted. 
Longing then to win her seized me, 
Drain her truth and virtue up. 
Fiercely hold her while it pleased me, 
Gather all her beauty to me, 
Drain her wine, the life-blood red. 
Then when all her life were sped 
Tho' her prayers for mercy sue me. 
Cast her by — a broken cup. 

This the vision then that haunted 
Me among the realms enchanted 
Till I spoke the Word of Dread, 
And the tortured flames subsided. 
And my weary spirit glided 
From the regions of the Dead. 



[Page 42 



Then unto the forest olden, 

Where my earthly corpse was holden, 

Hastened I to set it free. 

But the demon thirst still haunted 

And I passed o'er land and sea, 

Seeking for the pure faced maiden 

Who should give up hopes of Aidenn, 

Give up all she was or could be. 

Give up all she could or should be. 

Give it all for love of me, 

Quench with blood the fires enchanted. 

And I found you in this city. 

And I know not ruth nor pity. 

Maiden, maiden, so beware! 

I must quench my spirit's yearning. 

Then thy prayers and beauty spurning 

Seek again the Realms of Air. 

So once more I give thee warning. 

Knowing well 'twill meet thy scorning. 

Ah, maiden, so beware! 

It is not well that mortal maid 

Should play this game with him who played 

The Princes of the Air. 



[Page 43 



\ 



OTHER POEMS 



TO EDWIN MARKHAM 




INGER of songs and dreamer of 
fine dreams, 
I would thy poet prophecies were 

true! 
Ah, if for some brief nfioment I 

might, too. 
Drop Reason with her sense of 
"Is" and "Seems," 
And with Song's magic vision catch the gleams 
Of light breaking the clouds that dark our view, 
Might see the lilies where I see the yew, 
Might hear the lark where now the vulture 
screams! 

But God! How many poets lived and died 
"Since first Apollo touched his tuneful lyre?" 
And the grey world, unheeding, rolls along 
Through its phantasmas all of sin and wrong, 
The world-heart clinging still to its own pride. 
The poet-heart still warmed by its own fire. 



[Page 4 7 



TO C. L. G. 



GALLANT gentleman, heroic 

friend, 
Of courage calm, unflinching and 

serene; 
As in a mirror, in his soul are 

seen 
The virtues of the old chivalric 

days. 
When life meant honour and its mead was praise 
And high unselfish service was its end. 




[Page 4 



TO S. L. H. 




H listen, Love, as in the olden 
days 

I whisper words of praise. 

The words of love that you were 
wont to hear. 

It cannot be that all of this is 
dead, 

That love is fled — 
Not at midnoon the sun may disappear. 
And unto love all time is but midnoon. 
Only the spirit's death could quench his light. 
There is no night; 

And if there were, the silver of the moon. 
With pale light softening the broken lines, 
Would m.ake it whole, 
This shattered temple-palace of the soul; 
And heaven is nearer 'neath the waving pines 
When garish day has flown. 
And in the scented temple-aisles of night 
Love holds his solemn service — wild delight 
Subdued to plaintive moan. 



[Page 49 



WRITTEN ON READING A POEM 
BY MISS PAULINE FORE 

HAT god has led thee to his 

forest home 
And shown thee glories hidden 

from our ken. 
Unveiled the beauty of the world, 

as when 
The gods met gods beneath the 
starry dome, 
And oread and nymph were wont to roam 
Where Alpheus flowed, and all was holy then, 
Divine the woods and half divine were men, 
Sacred the hills, the seas, the rushing foam. 




Or of the gods is one alone thy choice? 
Perchance thou art beloved of Pan — from him 
This vision of the forests old and dim, 
And in thy song its laughter and delight, 
A music like the echo of his voice, 
A peace as quiet as the solemn night. 



[ Page 50 



ALMA MATER 




ORGETFULNESS must conquer 

in the end, 
For Time is versed in subtle 

alchemy; 
And all the passion of our love 

will blend 
With fading years to fading 

memory. 



But from the vistas that in the distance wane 
Still glide the silent ghosts of olden dreams. 
Ah, Memory is ever kin to Pain, 
And in her smile the tear drop ever gleams. 

Upon the fairest flower still shines the dew, 
It is a tear, but we would have it there. 
And tho' we think with aching hearts of you. 
Perchance the sorrow makes the dream more fair. 

Ah, Alma Mater, mother, fostering one, 
Beloved now, thou'rt but a name too soon. 
The fires that lit the sky when day began 
Fade in the purples of the afternoon. 



[Page 51 



ODE TO THE GRADUATES OF THE 
CLASS OF 1900 OF THE UNIVERSITY 
OF CALIFORNIA 




BREATH of wind will touch the 

pendulum, 
And time is older by a year or 

twain. 
These years, with vivid coloring 

of pain 
To some of ye and happiness to 

some. 



Will fade as distant things fade in a dream, 
A vague remembrance and a flitting show 
Of puppets counterfeiting joy and woe, — 
Fantastic and ghost-shrouded they will seem. 

And ye will enter in the larger life 
With young hearts saddened by a glimmering 
Of all the sorrows that the years may bring 
And frightened at the distant sounds of strife. 

And ye will turn a wistful glance upon 

The fading, flitting Shadows of the Past. 

Lo! From their midst a white light will be cast 

Upon ye, and a Voice will urge ye "On!" 

[Page 52 



I 



And in the fiercest battles that will come 
The Ghosts of Yesterday will fight beside 
In weakness or in strength, will cheer, deride. 
A reverse movement of the pendulum 

Will make the good deed blossom forth in flowers, 
Or wake a serpent lying 'neath the weed 
Whereof a sin forgotten was the seed. 
'Tis so the vengeful Hours guard the Hours. 

So Life must tally to its last account. 

For Cause and Sequence are the only laws,. 

Cause breeding Sequence, Sequence breeding 

Cause, 
The Karmic law whereby we fall and mount. 



[Page 53 



"GREAT IS DIANA OF THE 
EPHESIANS" 




|||HERE is the God of Britain, and 
the God 
Of France, and the distinctly 

better Lord 
Of this star-spangled banner of 

the free. 
But now a strange weird thought 
has come to me. 
Perchance a greater God, if such there be, 
Laughs at these petty godlings of the sword, 
These bearers of his vengeance and his rod. 
And dreams in silence of His heart's great loss. 
And of a glory that His world once missed 
When it forgot to keep a certain tryst 
Made with it in the shadow of the Cross. 



[Page 54 



THE PRIEST OF SATURN 




POLLO sinks in most majestic 
splendor, 
And Zeus, aweary, lays aside his 

crown. 
O'er Hera's eyes the lids droop 

slowly down 
Veiling the light now soft, now 
fierce, now tender. 
Now is the time come for the ancient priest. 
He moves towards the woods and casts his eye 
In malign menace towards the darkened East 
Where soon Apollo will deface the sky. 
He lifts his voice in low and solemn prayer: 
He names no names whereat man bend their 

knees, 
Nor Zeus nor Hera win of worship there. 
But there within the silence of the night 
He lifts his eyes unto a distant star, 
Glimmering in the voids of space afar. 
Revealed alone unto the priest-hood's sight. 
Unto that star has mighty Saturn fled; 
There Saturn reigns whom all our worlds hold 
dead. 



[Page 55 



But there are worlds that Zeus has never trod 
That hold old Saturn's name in honoi" yet, 
And there are stars that never shall forget 
The placid reign of the discrowned God. 
But still the heart of Saturn ever yearns 
To sad earth hearts that sadly yearn to him, 
And in the poet's heart, shrouded and dim 
The fire of Saturn glimmers, glows and burns. 
And from that star beyond e'en Zeus' ken. 
When cities all are dark and Gods asleep. 
There falls a voice unto the sons of men. 
To priests and poets who the secret keep. 
And to that star the ancient priesthood pray 
Who hold by Saturn and the golden reign. 
The priesthood of the cosmic natal day 
From whom high Zeus has nought but high dis- 
dain. 



[Page 5 6 



THE MYSTIC 




IS eye has pierced the Shadow of 
the Seeming, 

His lore is not the logic of the 
crowd, 

The frothing world with discords 
harsh and loud, 

That strives to break his har- 
mony of dreaming. 



II 



Life is a shadow of dead lives behind it. 
It throws its shade again on lives before. 
And "Why" and "Wherefore" are too long a law 

For plumb, or square, or rule to ever find it. 



Ill 



Only the spirit sees the spirit's glories; 

And Indra hides his heaven from our eyes. 

We lift weak gaze unto his ancient skies. 
And prate and tell each other pretty stories. 



[Page 57 



IV 



Lo! We are wise. Our navies win the battle. 

Where are our fathers' fathers? They are gone. 

We follow at the breaking of the morn, 
Confused our wisdom to a childish prattle. 



And yet unmoved amid the Wrath of Ages, 
The rise and falling of a people's tide, 
Heedless of Lethe rolling on beside. 

He stands, the Mystic, with his brother sages. 



VI 



How has he pierced the falling of the Shadow? 

We pause, and in the darkness falter, fall. 

We see the coffin and the funeral pall. 
Then madly seek some phantom El Dorado. 



VII 



Urged by Unrest whose name we call Ambition, 
We build us navies, conquer realms afar. 
We waste our people in a foolish war. 

A pyramid brought Pharaoh to perdition! 

[ P a g e 5 8 



VIII 

And still they stand and point beyond our seeing, 
Adown the fading vista of the years, 
Lone sentinels they stand, these poet-seers. 

The guardians of some secret of our being. 



IX 



They have found rest in their strange contempla- 
tion. 
We find no rest. We seek it everywhere. 
Turn to our use the earth, the seas, the air, 

And for pastime exterminate a Nation. 



We shriek of progress, struggle madly forward. 

Our priests cry raven from their pulpit stairs. 

We blaspheme God with murd'rous, bloody 
prayers. 
The Cross of Peace is raised to lead us warward. 



[Page 59 



XI 



Among the Nations, we are greatest, proudest, 
A breath of wind and then our task is done. 
A race is dwelling somewhere 'neath the sun 

Who'll crush us when our boastings are the 
loudest. 



XII 



And yet unmoved amid this Wrath of Ages, 
This falling, of a People in their pride, 
Heedless of Lethe rolling on beside. 

He stands, the Mystic, with his brother sages. 



[Page 60 



THE BIRTH OF CHRIST 




HROUGH all the isles of Greece 
was heard a moan, 

"Great Pan is Dead," 
Through the Olympian groves 
an anguished groan, 

"The gods are dead." 



Then all the air was rapture, and a voice 

Spoke softly, "All the gods shall live in me, 
For I am Love and Fate and Beauty, more 

Than all the high Olympian hierarchy; 
I come to bid the broken heart rejoice. 

The tangled web of creeds aside I draw • 
And ye shall look me in the face and know 

That I am Love and Love is all the law." 

Then through the isles of Greece a whisper 
spread, 
"The gods are gone, and God has come instead." 



[Page 61 



RECOMPENSE^ 




H THOU, whose potent will we 

trace 
Wherever nations rise and fall 
And ceasing lay their petty all 
Upon the altar of Thy grace, 



Lord! make 
hour 



us mindful of the 



When all our battlements are dust 

And we are mute beneath the crust — 

Our graves the well-spring whence a Power 

Now sleeping in the womb of Time 
Shall draw its wisdom and its lore, 
And serve Thy holy purpose more 
Because of all our fault or crime. 

Thy will and Nature's law are one. 
And Nature's path is thick with blood. 
And yet each morn a greater good 
Lifts up in answer to the sun. 

^Written in collaboration with D. Alexander* 
Gordenker. 



[ Page 62 



The nations rise and on Thy page 
They scroll their wills and sink to rest, 
And that one serves Thy purpose best 
Which leaves the richest heritage. 

And what are all our boasts of might 
But echoes of forgotten cries, 
Of savage shouters in whose eyes 
Thou hadst no glory in the fight? 

The ages roll, and in their train 
The nations, whirled upon the blast 
Aloft awhile, to earth are cast, 
To rise aloft and fall again. 

Where Thebes once reared her queenly head 
And ruled the peoples from her throne, 
The desert sand has left a stone 
To mark the City of the Dead. 

We stumble thro' our petty span. 
We wreak our evil, wreak our good. 
We knead our ashes with our blood, — 
Yet somehow Thy creation plan 



[Page 63 



Is ever better for our tears, 

And ever shapes the fleeting ill 

Unto the purpose of Thy will, 

And moves through alchemy of years. 



Page 64 



MURZAPUR 






N Murzapur above Benares 
. In Murzapur the quiet, fair, 
Ah, love of mine, the nights of 
pleasure. 
The tranquil nights of love 
spent there! 



To Murzapur above Benares, 
When the city's din was still. 

And swift summons to the council 
Came not from the King's high will, 

When the soldiers on the ramparts 
Lightly chatted — all was peace — 

Then I saddled in Benares, 
Happy in the hour's release. 

Then I saddled and I cantered 

O'er the level shining road 
To Murzapur above Benares, 

Thine and Krishna's sweet abode. 



[ Page 65 



In Murzapur above Benares, 
Hark, the timbrel's tinkling far! 

And thine eyes glow in the silence, 
While we dream of Murzapur. 



[Page 66 



MAZATLAN 




STARS that shine o'er Mazatlan, 
Brilliant and glorious, throned 
afar, 
Eyes of a maid in Mazatlan 
Glow brighter far than any 
star. 



Twin stars that shine upon the heart 
And witchcraft work in subtle way, 

Eyes of a maid in Mazatlan, 

Shine on my spirit night and day. 

Shine until Sirius grows pale, 
And fades the fierce Aldebaran, 

Shine on my soul, oh light divine, 
Eyes of a maid in Mazatlan! 



[Page 67 



THE FAREWELL OF THE OLD YEAR 




LEAVE you with the burden of 
your sadness, 
I leave you with the memory 
of your tears. 
I carry hours of love and hope 
and gladness 
Adown the pathway of the 
vanished years. 



With all your sorrows my old heart is aching, 

With all your pleasures I am still afire. 
Strange wares are mine: sad hearts in sadness 
breaking, 
Young hearts hot flushed with hope and love's 
desire. 

I leave to you the last born of the ages — 

The New Year — youngest child of Father 
Time. 

How will you keep his yet unsullied pages? 
What record write of royal deeds or crime? 



[Page 68 



He bears his deathless scroll — each day a'turn- 
ing 

New leaves, the record of your wills ye write. 
Patient he waits — then seals it and, returning, 

Bears it unto the changeless Halls of Night. 

There eager faces peer between the covers. 

And read the record of the Book of Days, 
And there the hearts of perished friends and 
lovers 
Grieve with your shames and glory in your 
praise. 



rPage 69 



DEC 24 l^^ 



